Invisible Child: Poverty, Survival, and Hope in an American City

by Andrea Elliott

The practice of drug-screening newborns and their mothers—often without informed consent—had become common in public hospitals. With Papa’s test results in hand, the staff alerted the city’s child protection agency. Chanel and Supreme were summoned to the agency’s office in Bedford-Stuyvesant—the same brick building where Supreme had been brought as a child. As he stood there in the lobby, the memory came rushing back. He was nine years old. His sister had just died. His parents were under investigation and he was about to be separated from his three brothers—the very thing Supreme had always feared. Twenty years later, the same fear would pass to Supreme and Chanel’s children. Six-year-old Dasani grew accustomed to knocks at the door. In walked caseworkers for the agency known as ACS. They came asking questions, looking through the fridge. They were searching for signs of neglect (not enough food) or abuse (bruises or welts). They inspected each child, one by one, from head to toe.